


"Bloodbath" Memories

by PatL



Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-26
Updated: 2002-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 23:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatL/pseuds/PatL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A television news segment brings back haunting memories for Starsky and Hutch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Bloodbath" Memories

What Nightmares Are Made Of  
(Bloodbath memories- Hutch)

I'm sorry I woke you up, buddy. I guess I should have looked at the clock before I dialled your number. But what's a few hours of missed sleep between friends, huh?   
I saw Charles Manson on the news tonight. I didn't catch the whole bit, maybe he was up for parole or something. I don't know. I wasn't really listening. What got me was his picture. Do you know who he reminded me of? Marcus. Funny, I never noticed that before. I was reading a book, and glanced at the TV, and for a minute I thought it was Simon Marcus. I could feel my skin crawl, I tell ya.   
Good old Charlie Manson. Man, he's a piece of work, isn't he? Maybe he's Simon's idol. Wouldn't that be a kick in the head? Marcus and Charlie Manson, two peas in a pod. Or, two creeps in a can.  
I guess he was still on my mind when I went to sleep. Marcus, I mean. I could care less about Manson. He can rot in prison for the rest of his life for all I care. He got what he deserved. Simon Marcus is a different story. He should burn in the eternal fires of Hell for what he did to you. Prison's too good for that scum.  
Anyway, I had that dream again. It's been a long time, but it was just as bad as the first time I had it. You were hanging there like a piece of meat, and those punks were chanting Simon's name. I saw that girl stab you with a knife. What was her name? Oh yeah, Gail. Then they all crowded around you, and all I could see were the knives moving up and down, and the blood running under their feet. I tried to reach you, but I couldn't move. I woke myself up yelling your name.   
I know I shouldn't be dumping this on you. You've had your share of nightmares about Marcus. But, I needed to hear your voice, you know? It was so real that I could almost smell the blood. All the fear and the frustration that I felt when I was looking for you came rushing back. I don't know when I've been more terrified. Well, honestly, I do. When good old Vic Bellamy gave you that shot, and of course, Gunther. But, somehow, Marcus was different. I guess not knowing where you were made it worse. Well, that's what nightmares are made of, right? But could you do me a favour, Starsk? Let somebody else have the starring role for a change. I don't think this old heart can take much more.   
When I saw Gail cut your ropes, and saw you drop to the floor, I wanted to kiss the ditzy broad. It was good to see you kicking ass, buddy. As long as I have the real memory of that day, I guess I can put up with the nightmares. Besides, you looked kinda sexy in that fancy nightgown. You always did look good in basic black. It brings out the blue in your eyes.   
So, it is OK if I come over for a while? Yeah, I know it's late, but I just wanted to see ya. Thanks, buddy. I knew you'd understand.

 

Rivers of red running down the steps  
The other half of my soul destroyed  
Evil incarnate stands back and laughs  
While silver flashes   
And flesh is torn  
The White Knight rushes in  
Where Angels fear to tread  
He's mine, Marcus  
You can't have him  
Evil doesn't stand a chance  
Against love

Story and poem written by Patricia Lockard  
Edited by Sonja H. van Schalm  
August 4, 2002

Things That Go Bump in the Night  
(Bloodbath memories- Starsky)  
That's OK, Blintz. I knew it was you before I answered the phone. I'm glad you called. Hey, if your best friend can't wake you up in the middle of the night, who can?   
Yeah, I saw the creep. Makes you wonder how so many people can fall for that crap, doesn't it? I wasn't listening, either. As far as I'm concerned, Manson is old news. You never noticed how much Marcus looks like him? Funny, that's the first thing that I noticed. It's the eyes. They remind you of the darkest pits of Hell.   
Buddy, he makes everybody's skin crawl. Everybody that's sane, that is.   
Yeah, that is a kick in the head. Most kids want to grow up to be doctors, or lawyers, or maybe even Superman. Marcus wanted to be a psychotic killer. Well, he got his wish, I guess. Go figure.   
I'm sorry you still dream about that stuff, partner. Let me tell you who's in my hit parade: Ben Forrest, Calendar, and Roy Slater. Watching you go through withdrawal was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I felt like the bad guy, because I couldn't give you what you wanted most: the junk. And watching you die a little bit at a time was almost more than I could take, when you had the plague. But, you're right. When I was tearing up Jack, hunting all over the city for you, I felt like the last living man on Earth. I didn't know where you were, and I didn't know if you were alive or dead.   
So you wanted to kiss Gail, huh? Well, when I found you hidin' under that beat up heap that you call a car, I wanted to kiss you. You didn't exactly look like a pin-up from GQ, but you were the best looking thing I ever saw. Don't let it go to your head, though. I always was a sucker for a pretty blonde. Hey, I even went out and bought you another heap when you got back on your feet. Well, back on one foot, anyway. What can I say? I was so glad to see you that I wasn't thinking straight. I plead temporary insanity. Yeah, that's it. I was insane to buy you another clunker. I should have left well enough alone. Well, we all can't have good taste in cars, can we?   
So come on over, I'll be waiting for ya. And to show how great a guy I am, I'll even let you share my bed. I know how much that couch hurts your back. Just don't try anything, though. I'm not that kind of guy. Tomorrow, we'll haul out the old Monopoly game, and drink a few beers. Then, if you're real good, I might even let you win a game or two of chess. If you feel like it, we'll go to Huggy's and eat dinner, and play some pool. Oh yeah, there's some real good movies on the Creature Feature tomorrow night. That ought to be good for a few laughs. After all, the monsters on the TV screen aren't nearly as scary as the real ones we've faced.

Ropes of twine binding my wrists  
The other half of my soul survives  
Mindless souls chant His name  
While silver flashes  
And despair is born

The White Knight rushes in   
Where Angels fear to tread  
Go on, Marcus,  
Give it your best shot  
Evil doesn't stand a chance  
Against love

Story and poem written by Patricia Lockard  
Edited by Sonja H. van Schalm  
August 26, 2002


End file.
